


Dance your way into this heart

by TheRedPalaaladin (Thighz)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Awkward Flirting, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Polyamory, Secret Santa, nothing but fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-25 23:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13223895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thighz/pseuds/TheRedPalaaladin
Summary: Lance gets a little more than he bargained for when he flies across the country for a dance convention with his troop.





	Dance your way into this heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Voltron Secret Santa~ I had a lot of fun writing this. 
> 
>  
> 
> Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, my friend!
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Enjoy_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lance was not built for the cold. He is used to dry summers and crisp springs and mildly cool winters where the temperature never left the sixties. So it’s to his great disappointment that his dance troop decides to head to the northeast for a dance convention during  _ December. _

“I should have packed another sweater.” Lance grumbles, yanking at the cords of his hood and casing the sides of his face in soft, green fabric.

“It’s only twenty degrees outside.” Pidge cackles from a few feet ahead, dressed from head to toe in ear muffs and fur boots and a giant, fluffy jacket. Lance scowls at the back of their head and continues to grumble as snow and wind bites him in the face.

“Rumor has it they’re offering scholarships for the school here.” Hunk grins over at Lance, hands deep in his pockets.

Lance furrows his brow, “They’ve denied my application like two times.”

“No.” Pidge snaps, “You never sent them in because you chickened out.”

Semantics, Lance thinks bitterly. Two different instructors told him he’d never make it at the Paladin Academy for Dance. So he wrote two essays out of spite and then crumbled them up and set them aflame in a the firepit behind his house. 

“I have one of your essays saved.” Hunk whispers, “We can turn it in at the booth.”

Lance chuckles and the air steams up in the cold, “There’s going to be hundreds of dancers there today, Hunk, but I appreciate the help.”

Hunk slaps him on the back, “Anytime, buddy.”

The convention center looms ahead of them, the huge building covered in snow and ice and lines of bundled up dancers entering through glass doors. Excitement lances through him at the sight and he elbows Hunk with a wide grin.

Their troupe gets in line as soon as they walk through the doors. They get their badges and make their way to the main hall where all the booths are located. Lance snatchs a map from one of the welcome tables and flips the pages till he gets to the panel schedules. He digs around in his bag for a pen and clicks it open, marking which ones are a must visit and which ones are good back ups.

Hunk starts chatting up one of the fellow dancers and Pidge is already beelining for the dance shoes booth in the corner.

“Meet back at the center in two hours?” Lance calls out.

They both send him a thumbs up from their separate directions and Lance grins and strolls off to view the different booths.

He buys a few t-shirts and is browsing the different chalks when a throat clears behind him. He frowns down at the chalk and ignores it.

Another throat clearing and a soft ‘Keith. Stop that’ in a soft, fond voice.

Lance’s skin tingles and he gives half a glance over his shoulder to see ‘needs a cough drop’ dude and his companion.

The first thing he sees is the tall one, broad shouldered and wearing a shirt so tight it should be illegal. He’s got black hair, dyed white at the bangs and is wearing a patient smile. There’s a stack of purple flyers held close to his chest and he gives Lance a half a wave with his free hand.

A shorter man stands beside him, red leather jacket and hair styled in some kind of modern mullet. He has his arms crossed over his chest and is giving Lance the total stink eye.

Lance twists around fully and scowls, “You got a problem?”

The tall one blinks and jerks a little, but he glances down at his partner and sighs, “Keith.”

“What?” Keith throws his hands out, “You told me to get people to come to the booth.”

“You’re being  _ rude _ .” Tall one sighs in exasperation. He turns that patient, beautiful smile on Lance and extends a hand, “Hi. I’m Shiro. We’re students from PDA.”

Lance snorts at the letters and Keith’s mouth turns up a little at the sound of it too. Shiro gives them both a frustrated look.

“Lance.” He sets his hand in Shiro’s and gives it a shake, “West coast dancers.”

“You’re a long way from home.” Shiro blinks.

“And in a completely different climate.” Lance motions to his sweater and scarf ensemble, “It’s still sunny and sixty five back home.”

“I’d sell my left foot for warmer weather.” Keith groans, “It’s been snowing non-stop for a week.”

“It’s not that bad.” Shiro admonishes, “Snow is beautiful.”

“And wet. And cold.” Keith reminds him with a quirked eyebrow.

“I’m with mullet on this one.” Lance jerks a thumb at Keith.

Shiro gives a dramatic sigh, “No one sees the romance in snow anymore. Jaded. All of you.”

“I’ll live.” Keith snorts. A girl steps up next to Lance and he switches his focus to her.

Lance looks back at Shiro, who is holding out a flyer for him to take. His fingers close around it and he looks down to read it.

His heart jumps, “You’re doing scholarship  _ tryouts _ ?” 

Shiro laughs, “Yea. Usually we take a bunch of essays and go from there, but the students did a vote and we wanted to actually see the dancers this year.”

Lance’s hand shakes a bit and he bites into his bottom lip, “Can it be a routine we’ve already performed on stage? Or is this a freestyle type of thing?”

“It can be anything you want.” Shiro looks excited all of a sudden and it’s infectious, Lance shares his grin in seconds, “Under five minutes long, be prepared to make a short speech after to explain your style and hopes for the future with PDA.”

Lance bites his lip again, “I’m not sure -.”

“Give it some thought?” Shiro looks so earnest, so hopeful. Lance wonders if this is his tactic for all the potential tryout candidates or if Lance is just special. Which is crazy. It’s crazy. 

He smiles, “I’ll think about it. Not sure if I can pull of a full cross country move.”

“You will if you get in here.” Keith interrupts, “Our school is the best.”

“You’ve said that since middle school,” Shiro rolls his eyes.

“If we’re in it, then it’s the best.” Keith smirks.

“Your overconfidence isn’t as attractive as you think it is.” Lance informs him, waving the flyer in his face.

Keith shrugs, “The truth is the truth. We’re the best. If you’re good, we want the best.” He leans across the table, nose to nose with Lance, “You good?”

Lance growls, “I’m the best.”

“Prove it.” Keith sneers.

“Fine.” Lance smashes the flyer in his hands, “Put me down for a slot.”

Five minutes later, his full name and information is down and he has a slot for three thirty the following day. 

Lance walks away in a daze and goes in search of Hunk and Pidge.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

  
  
  


“Dibs.” Keith declares as soon as Lance is out of earshot.

The skin between Shiro’s brow creases in irritation, “You can’t call dibs yet.”

“I can do whatever I want.” Keith taps the end of the pencil over Lance’s full name, “I’ve seen videos of his dancing, you haven’t.”

“Oh.” A stupidly sexy smug look forms on Shiro’s face as he glances down at Keith, “You’re playing  _ favorites _ .”

Keith sniffs and turns up his nose, “Isn’t that how we ended up together?” He pokes the pencil into one of Shiro’s pecs and glides it up to the base of his neck, “You playing  _ favorites _ .”

Shiro’s throat bobs in a heavy swallow, “Unfair.”

“I never play fair, babe.” Keith pulls the pencil away, “Dibs.”

Shiro’s shoulders shift and he puffs out his chest, “Nope. I won’t accept that.”

Keith is instantly intrigued, he turns a smirk in Shiro’s direction, “Are you proposing a  _ challenge _ , Takashi?”

“ _ If _ he’s into men,” Shiro shoves a finger into Keith’s arm, “First one to convince him to couples dance gets to kiss him first.”

Keith lifts an eyebrow, loosens his shoulders and contemplates the challenge. It’s a good idea, but Shiro is right, it was hard to tell if Lance was into dudes. He could be straight as an arrow and they could be wasting their time.

“Alright. I accept your terms.” Keith stretches out his palm.

Shiro rolls his eyes and presses their palms together. He uses the hold to yank Keith forward and lean down for a kiss. Keith makes a suspicious face, but he turns his mouth up and accepts it with a shivering heart and a deep sigh. 

“You’re going down.” Shiro murmurs against his lips.

Keith’s eyes fly open and narrow, “You dirty -.” 

Shiro’s mouth curls into a smirk and he nibbles at Keith’s bottom lip, fogging up his thought process and making his face burn, “To the victor goes the spoils.”

“I’m going to destroy you.” Keith promises.

Shiro pulls away, pats down the front of his shirt and gathers up his fliers. He sends his patient, infuriatingly beautiful smile to a few people passing by and that’s that.

The game is on.

  
  


-0-0-0-0-0-0-

  
  


Lance is pretty sure someone is watching him.

He glances up from his phone, where he’s running through the videos of his various dance routines, and peers into the throng of moving bodies. Hunk is on his right, hat tucked down over his eyes while he takes a quick nap and Pidge is sorting through a sewing kit they bought to repair costumes.

Lance studies the many people milling about in the hallways. No one is paying them any mind outside of quick glances, but no outright staring. He frowns and looks back at his phone, fast forwarding through a routine and picking the best moves to combine with a simpler routine.

“Are you going to any panels?”

The voice is familiar and Lance blanches, head lifting slowly to stare up at none other than Keith.

“Not….today?” Lance hedges with a suspicious look.

“There’s a salsa panel in about fifteen minutes and I need a partner.” Keith looks like he’s ready to fist fight a squirrel and he’s asking Lance to go to a dance class.

“I already know how to salsa.” Lance lifts an eyebrow, “Don’t you?”

“I do interpretive dance, Lance.” Keith sighs, “I come here to broaden my horizons.” 

“Well, since you roped me into doing a freaking tryout tomorrow, I can’t do panels this evening.” Lance shakes his phone up at Keith, “Now I have to pick which one I want perform and do a dry run.”

“Oh.” Keith gives a contemplative frown, “Need help with that?”

“Wouldn’t that be cheating?” Lance laughs, “Dude, you go there.”

Keith is looking increasingly frustrated by the second. He throws his hands up and grumbles loudly, “Fine.  _ Fine. _ ” Lance watches him storm away, pushing through the people. He frowns after him for a moment, then returns to his phone.

“Oh buddy.” Hunk snickers.

Lance glances over at him and Hunk is peering from under the edge of his cap, a grin on his face. Pidge is wearing a similar expression.

“What?” Lance hisses.

“He was asking you to  _ dance with him. _ ” Pidge points out, wiggling a finger in the same direction Keith left in.

“I heard that.” Lance huffs.

“No.” Hunk rolls his hand, “He was asking you. To. Dance. With. Him.”

Oh.

_ Oh. _

Lance straightens his spine and swivels around in an attempt to find Keith in the mass of dancers and instructors.

_ Ohhhhh. _

“I thought you were the king of flirting with anything with two legs and a heartbeat.” Pidge smirks, clicking their sewing kit closed.

“I am.” Lance puffs out his chest, “I just wasn’t expecting mullet boy to even be into me.” He deflates a little, “I mean -.” His fingers tighten around the phone in his hand, “Really?” 

“Yes.” Hunk assures, “It was painful to watch. He’s not very good.”

Lance hears Pidge elbow Hunk in the side, earning a high pitched wheeze.

Damn, Lance thinks, lost opportunity number one.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

  
  


The second time it happens, Lance is ready.

It’s getting dark and they’re about to head back to the hotel. Lance is attempting to bundle up in the extra shirts he bought and two sweaters. Pidge is snickering at him as they say their goodbyes to the new friends they made on the first day. Lance is ready to head to the gym and practice a few moves in front of the floor to wall mirrors he knows are in there. 

He’s wrapping his scarf around his neck and face when Shiro walks up.

He’s wearing a gorgeous black leather jacket with the PDA logo on the sleeve and a red and white scarf around his neck. There’s a black beanie with a panda on his head and his little tuff of white hair is peeking out of the front.

Lance sighs a little on the inside and smiles, “Hi.” He tugs the edge of his blue scarf down so Shiro can hear him, “Need something?”

“Keith said you wouldn’t salsa dance with him.” Shiro chuckles, “He’s bad at asking for things.”

“I wouldn’t call it asking.” Lance winces, “He came off kind of demanding.”

“He’s like that.” Shiro hums, “I promise it’s part of his charm.”

Lance can get on board with that. He nods and Shiro just keeps looking down at him with that  _ expression. _

“I’m going to get some coffee down the road before I turn in for the evening.” Shiro fiddles with the edge of his scarf, “Would you like to join me?”

See. Now  _ that’s  _ how you ask a dude out on a date. Take notes Keith, he thinks gleefully.

“Sure.” Lance adjusts his bag over his shoulder and looks over at Pidge and Hunk, “I’ll meet ya’ll back at the hotel?”

“Sure.” Pidge shrugs, “Have fun.”

Hunk frowns, “But I thought Keith -.” Pidge yanks him by the ear, “OW.”

“Have fun Lance.” They give a wave and head out into the snow.

Shiro is giving them a fond once-over before turning back to Lance, “Your friends are very perceptive.” 

Lance is confused for a second, but then Shiro is blinding him with that damn smile again and he’s lost. Ready to follow tall, strong and silent anywhere he asks.

“Coffee.” Shiro wraps a hand around Lance’s elbow and drags him out into the abominable weather.

They make it halfway down the sidewalk before Shiro pauses. Music distracts them from the green canopy cover of a bistro. White lights hang from the snow laden canvas and the orange patio is clear of snow and holding numerous couples spinning around in the snowfall. A bright christmas tree sits just behind the glass, where numerous people are chatting at tables and sipping wine.

“Oh. That is -.” Really beautiful. Lance gives the scene a lopsided smile. Some of the couples are wearing familiar faces, some from boothes, others from just around the con.

“Do you want to -.” Shiro motions to the patio, “You can show me your doubles moves? We do group routines at Paladin.”

“Are you a teacher?” Lance inquires suspiciously.

Shiro laughs and it’s gorgeous and deep, “No.” He raises a gloved hand, “I swear I’m a student.”

Lance eyes the dancing couples one more time before grinning and yanking Shiro down the walkway by his jacket, “Let’s dance then.”

Shiro’s laughter lasts the entire way to the patio, who a few of the dancers greet Shiro with bright eyes and a few high fives. Shiro winds him around to stand in front of him and his smile is blinding, “Any style you prefer?” Lance asks.

“We could salsa.” Shiro smirks.

Lance throws his head back with a laugh, “You’re cruel.”

“He lost his chance.” Shiro shrugs and spins Lance into a complicated Waltz instead.

“So he  _ was _ asking me out.” Lance mutters, following Shiro’s dance steps flawlessly, with a practiced ease that akin to autopilot. 

“He was.” Shiro affirms, “He’s going to be disappointed that you picked me.”

Lance blinks, stumbles half a step before Shiro steers him right back into it, “Uh….were ya’ll competing?”

Shiro purses his lips, “We are competing at least three days a week. Keith likes a challenge.” His eyes met Lance, knowing and mischievous, “You two are very much alike.”

“No.” Lance sends him a frustrated look, “Are ya’ll competing for  _ me _ ?” That is both flattering and confusing.

Shiro manages to look properly ashamed for a second before spinning Lance around in a way that makes his stomach swoop. He brings Lance back in and the couples around them ooo and aaaah. 

“In a way.” Shiro admits, “We are interested. In you. Together.” 

Lance can feel a wrinkle forming at his brow as he repeats Shiro’s words in his head. Rearranges them. Then a voice that sounds suspiciously like Pidge says ‘They want you.  _ Together. _

Lightbulb.

Lance smirks in slow realization, “You know I like the waltz. You kept it from him deliberately.” 

Shiro slows the dance a bit, “Keith thinks I’ve never seen you dance.” He lowers his head so only Lance can hear him, “But Keith only watches your professional performances.”

“You are  _ devious. _ ” Lance whispers.

Shiro shakes his head, “Not at all.” He spins Lance out and back in, “I’m thorough.”

“You’re a cheater.”

Lance laughs at the sound of Keith’s voice. Shiro waltz’s them in a circle to where Lance can see Keith leaning over the patio railing, coffee in hand and wearing a bright red beanie. A laugh bubbles out of Lance’s chest.

“You suck at asking people out, mullet.”

Keith shrugs a shoulder, “I’m better with my mouth.”

“AH!” Shiro spins Lance out of Keith’s vision, “I won. I get to kiss him first.”

Lance laughs again, warmth clouding his chest. Shiro finishes out the dance with an overzealous flourish, leaving the inner crowd clapping and the other dancing whistling. Lance feels tingly all the way down to his toes as he gives an extravagant bow and Shiro chuckles at his side.

“I do get to kiss him after, right?” Keith asks.

Lance raises his hands in a half shrug, “I dunno. You’ve been so rude to me today.”

“What?” Keith frowns, “I was  _ motivating _ you.”

Shiro’s hand settles big and solid on Lance’s lower back and he can feel it even through his five layers of clothing. He turns his face up to Shiro and can see Keith watching them out of the corner of his eyes. Shiro’s dark eyes are shining as he sets a knuckle under Lance’s chin and tips his head back a hair more.

His mouth is warm, lips dry and cold. But he makes this soft, muted moan deep in his chest and Lance can feel his knees wobbling. He moves his mouth a bit and Shiro sighs, coaxing his lips open and sinking long and deep.

“Tease.” Keith whispers breathlessly.

Lance smirks against Shiro’s mouth and wraps a hand around the back of the man’s neck. Shiro makes a surprised sound, but follows along.

“I hate both of you.” Keith is pouting, Lance can hear it in his voice. 

Shiro pulls away, laughter soft as he rubs a thumb along Lance’s jawline.

Lance is in a daze, but he lolls his head forward once more and slinks in Keith’s direction. Shiro follows and Keith eyes them both suspiciously. Lance leans against the railing between them and smiles.

“Gimmie a kiss, mullet.”

Keith snorts, crossing his arms over his chest, “I don’t think I want to anymore.”

Lance drapes his arms over Keith’s shoulders, “Don’t lie.”

Keith eyes him dubiously, “I want to see your routine first.”

“Coffee first.” Shiro reminds them, “I need caffeine.”

“You’re horrible at trading too.” Lance tugs at Keith’s hair.

He can feel Keith shrug under his arms. 

Shiro tugs them in the direction of the coffee shop and Lance pulls the edge of his scarf back of his mouth to block out the whipping wind. Keith’s arm brushes his as they walk and Shiro leads the way, gesturing wildly about the dance and the difference between the salsa and the waltz.

“You’re taking this better than I thought.” Keith mutters.

Lance gives a small smile in his direction, “I’ve been asked out by cute guy and girls plenty of times, but never two at once.” He clicks his tongue, “It’s a bit...different, but you’re both cute and I’m all for kissing and getting to know you two.”

Keith nods and tucks his hands into the pockets of his red jacket, “We’re up for it too. Coffee first. Then I want to see your routine.” He waves a gloved hand at Shiro’s back, “You’ve got good skill, Lance. You’d do well at Paladin. Between Shiro and I, you’ll be perfected in no time.”

Lance bumps their shoulders, “I can roll with that.”

Keith smiles at him, genuine and small. Lance’s heart wobbles and he turns his gaze to Shiro, who is looking over his shoulder at them with an equally happy grin.

Lance may hate the cold, but at this very moment, he’s never been so warm.

 

 

  
  


**End**

 


End file.
